Two and A Half Minutes
by KillerInADress
Summary: "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" The words echoing around the grounds left Draco with the thundering realization. Two and a half minutes ago, he had been fearfully silent, and happily ignorant. Now, minutes later, he was loud, and desperately, horrifyingly in love. Paring: Harry/Draco. /Slash/ One shot! *First attempt at Angst*


Title: Two and a Half Minutes.

Disclaimer: "GRYFFINDOR!" Shouted the Sorting Hat. I felt my heart sink.

"But-but I'm belong in Slyther-" I try to argue.

But the Hat just wouldn't listen. "Did I F-ing stutter?" It whispered into my ear menacingly as I gasped. The hat could curse? Suddenly, the hat was shouting out to the Great Hall once more. "Draco Malfoy, report to Gryffindor at once! And snog Harry Potter while you're there!"

(And that is how it would have gone if I owned Harry Potter. Feel free to make your own deductions based on the evidence I have provided.)

Rating: Pg-13 (T)

Summary: "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"

The words echoing around the grounds left Draco with the thundering realization. Two and a half minutes ago, he had been fearfully silent, and happily ignorant. Now, minutes later, he was loud, and desperately, horrifyingly in love.

Paring: Harry/Draco. /Slash/

One shot!

Written By: KillerInADress

* * *

Two and A Half Minutes

* * *

"Harry Potter is _dead_. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is _gone_."

Draco Malfoy heard it.

The chilling voice of the Dark Lord filled his ears as he spoke words through a magically magnified voice. Words that Draco felt simply _could not_ be true.

Cautiously, the blonde edged his way to one of the windows in the sixth floor corridor he had currently been wondering in, lost in memories and thoughts he'd rather forget. Looking down, out towards the sloping grounds leading out to the Forbidden forest, Draco felt his breathing halt.

Sure enough, the Dark Lord stood there, many of his death eaters around him and the foolish half giant was holding what, (Draco narrowed his sharp grey eyes), yes, what certainly looked like a man. But Potter? It couldn't be.

The Dark Lord was saying something about kneeling or death or war or…something. But Draco had stopped listening. He tuned out the snake faced wizard as he stalked towards the stairway and down until he could make out the double doors that lead out to the grounds. Many others had gathered here as well, leaving their lost love ones to look out and see if the words being said were true or not.

However, Draco knew they weren't. Potter wasn't like that. Draco may not have known Potter like his friends did, but Draco would, and had, bet his life that Potter was a hero to a fault.

And he was still alive today, so it was all lies. It must be.

Once outside, Draco saw the group come right up close to the castle before the snake face said something and his death eaters broke off to stand in a long line over looking the court yard separating them from the occupants of the school.

For the second time in two minutes, Draco felt his chest tighten and his lungs refuse any more air as his eyes widened. Hagrid was, indeed, holding the body of Harry Potter. It looked broken and he wasn't moving, but Draco forced his mind to still and his breathing to pick back up. Potter wasn't dead. It was some sort of plan. It had to be.

"NO!"

The sound made Draco flinch hard. McGonagall had never made such a noise before and Draco felt his ears ring with the effects of it as he felt his own confusion mounting. Couldn't an intelligent woman, such a McGonagall, tell when Potter was just faking his death? Clearly, Potter had just been pretending he was dead so as to get close to the Dark Lord. There was no way he'd actually-

"No!"

"_No!_"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Draco spun to see the other two of the golden trio, followed by Potter's girlfriend, come rushing out to the court yard where McGonagall was now. The blonde furrowed his brows. It was odd to see Potter leave his friends behind. If was some kind of plan, surely…_surely_ he would have let them in on it.

Draco tried very, very hard not to scream out his own broken, "**NO!**" But he couldn't help it. Luckily, it was drowned out by the many other shouts happening around him, but Draco didn't much care at the moment as his eyes lay only on the limp body of the Boy Wonder.

It hadn't been the cries of his closest friends that had shattered his hopefully belief that Potter was just pretending. It was when he looked, really looked, at the face of his old Care of Magical Creatures' professor that he felt his last desperate faith in Potter crack. The large man was shaking with sobs and letting fat tears fall onto the boy's chest as he cradled him in his arms, but the thing that did damage beyond repair, was the way his black eyes looked haunted, as if death had taken a part of the man with the loss of his friend.

Draco felt sick. He had seen that look on the face of Greg Goyle the moment Draco had told his friend what happened in the Room of Requirement, and Greg had indubitably seen the same look on the pale boys' face.

Hagrid was holding him. He was practically hugging the green eyed boy. If Potter was alive; if he was breathing or had even the slightest pulse, Hagrid would have felt it. If Hagrid looked that way, then Potter must be-then Potter was-

Draco hadn't even realized there had been a silencing charm placed on them, nor that the Dark Lord had been speaking until Ron Wealsey's shout of, "He beat you!" broke through spell and the deafening noise that followed. Draco was pulled back to himself when Longbottom knocked his shoulder in his rush to get to the front of the ever growing crowd. It was then, that Draco Malfoy felt the breeze brush his face, making the wetness on his cheeks feel icy. He had been crying.

Draco blinked rapidly to clear his vision. This wasn't him. This _wasn't_ a Malfoy. Malfoy did not cry just because the seventeen year old boy they had hoped would win them the second Wizarding war, was killed in the fight.

They did not shed tears over the casualties of battle unless said victim was family or…

Or a loved one.

Draco was about ready to believe that he would never breathe again as he felt his heart pound at his chest uncomfortably. Two and half minutes ago, Draco had been blissfully ignorant of any feelings he might hold for the scruffy haired Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. Then, Draco had heard the Dark Lord proclaim Potter's death and everything was shot to hell as the blonde was forced to face the possibility of a world without the green eyed git.

Draco felt his stomach lurch roughly and he ducked back inside the castle and to the nearest toilet, unaware that his mother had been watching him closely from the moment the first tear had fallen. Draco was never going to see those eyes again. Those beautiful, sparkling green jewels that Draco had spent years pretending he never dreamed about or felt his heart flutter when they were turned on him.

As Draco collapsed onto the bathroom floor with more silent tears streaking down his cheeks, he found himself confronted with all the denial he put himself through. All the feelings he'd played off as hate because it was easiest. All the talks he'd avoided and the many rants he got off.

And with one final head spin, Draco allowed himself the truth he didn't want to see for five years. He, Draco Malfoy, was hopelessly in love with Harry Potter, The-Stupid-Idiot-Who-Just-Had-To-Be-A-Hero.

Somewhere over head, the sound of glass smashing pierced the quiet. Draco didn't care to go explore further as he brought himself up to a sitting position and wiped his face harshly. Why did it have to be Potter? Why couldn't bloody Potter have just stayed alive? Why didn't he realize his feelings sooner?

Draco felt as if his heart and his head might burst together at the same time. Even if he had noticed these feelings sooner, it wouldn't have done him much good, Draco thought bitterly. Potter was dating the weasel girl. Potter wouldn't have wanted _him_.

As he slowly crawled to his feet, Draco tried to convince himself that this was better. That Potter was dead so Draco could nurse this heartbreak and then move on as quickly as possible.

The noise outside the broken bathroom was so loud that Draco cringed. He debated with himself about going out and trying to find his parents, (who were likely to be by the side of that ugly snake faced bastard), or staying put. He didn't much want to stand next to that _thing_ that killed the boy he had falling in love with, but Draco was eager to find his parents and make sure they were both alright.

"HARRY- WHERE'S HARRY?!"

Before he'd come to a decision, the bellowed words that rang out above all other sound made Draco rush out into the battle with a second thought.

The mass of people dueling around him made Draco's head spin. He was certain that there hadn't been so many fighting the war before Potter's death, but he didn't spend much time on the subject as he fought his way to the double doors. He found himself otherwise occupied by a member of that 'Dumbledore army' before he'd so much as caught a glimpse of outside and before he knew it, he had dueled his way with the rest of the crowd, into the Great Hall.

No longer fighting him, Draco found himself free to pick his next duel, and he shot a stunner at a death eater who was busy taking on five others and didn't notice him. Draco didn't want the Dark Lord to win anymore. He knew now, that he wanted to avenge Harry. It was only right that he do this one last thing.

Too busy fighting to hear his parents calling for him, Draco felt someone brush passed him in a hurry. He spun around to see another couple of fights happening behind him and tried to ignore the pain from the pang of hope he had that Harry was some how still alive and fighting from under that stupid cloak of his.

Suddenly, Draco felt a shield charm spring up between himself and an advancing Death Eater. Looking wildly around for the caster, Draco could have sworn he saw someone invisible knock another aside.

Cursing under his breath, Draco gave himself a hard shake and tossed a spell at another Death Eater sneaking up behind one of the older Weasley brothers. The brother turned, shot the blonde a surprised look before offering a friendly nod and turn back to the battle.

Potter was dead, and Draco would just have to accept that. His eyes were merely playing tricks on him and no amount of wanting the bespectacled git to have mysteriously survived, like he always did, would change the truth.

Distraction came in form of millions of tiny house elves brandishing knives and cleavers. The house elves attacked viciously. Stabbing and cutting any part of the death eaters they could reach.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Draco recoiled sharply as Mrs. Weasley came storming past in a rage. The pale blonde stood, thunderstruck as he watched his crazy aunt getting her arse handed to her by the mother of many boys and one girl.

Draco flinched with every cruel word his aunt taunted with and when Mrs. Weasley threw the final curse, Draco found his respect for the Weasley's grow exceedingly larger than it had ever been before.

Suddenly, the scream that filled the air had Draco wincing harder than anything else as he felt the power push against him, forcing him backwards a few steps. He had just about regained his balance when unexpected hands were on his shoulders and he felt himself being spun around before his mother embraced him with such strength, Draco feared his ribs may break. But he couldn't find it in himself to care as he returned her hug with much needed pressure, fighting back the wetness blurring his vision.

He felt another set of arms around them and he looking back to see his father had added to the hug and was openly crying, something Draco did not believe he would ever see.

"_Protego!_"

That voice. Draco knew that fucking voice!

Abruptly blinking away tears, Draco looked around as the many exclaims of "Harry!" and "HE'S ALIVE!" ran through the room and seemed to fade out almost as quickly.

Potter…Harry fucking Potter was ALIVE!

And the only thing Draco wanted to do was bloody **_murder _**him!

Watching Harry and the Dark Lord begin to circle each other like wild cats' about to pounce, the blonde boy frowned. His heart was going to jump out of his chest, he was certain. However, as happy as Draco was, the only thing he could think of was how much he hated Potter for scaring him like that. Letting Draco believe that he really had died and that Draco would-that Draco would never see-That they would never-

His mothers' arms tightened softly around him as the tears started to fall, but Draco took no notice as he continued to focus on the two in the middle of the hall with horrified fascination.

Potter had survived, _again!_ But…

"You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"

"But you did not!"

"-I meant to, and that's what did it."

Draco frowned impossibly harder. It wasn't just a simple plan to fool the Dark Lord into getting close enough for him to strike; Potter had actually wanted to die? To protect them?

The grey eyed boy nearly opened his mouth to tell the ugly faced snake to move out of the way so he could kick Potter's sorry arse for being so Goddamn _stupid, _but thought better of it and tightened his jaw instead.

The longer the two of them sized the other up, the more edgy Draco became. He could tell that the red eyed wizard was getting restless. He sifted his grip on the ashen wand and he's murderous orbs were darting back and forth, looking for an opening. Draco couldn't tell if Potter had even noticed this. Other than the tight hold he had on Draco's wand, Potter looked calm and otherwise preoccupied with talking.

"-I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine!"

The words hit like a physical blow to the gut and Draco drew in a jagged breath. Behind him, his father made a noise of despair and Draco pretended not to notice as his mother withdrew her arms from around him and went to clasp onto her husband instead, giving him strength.

In an attempt to keep from letting fresh tears cloud his sight, Draco allowed his silver eyes to scan the rest of the crowded Great Hall, and the surroundings before finally letting his eyes rest on the youngest Weasley girl who was clutching her brother tightly, looking as afraid as Draco felt.

Draco couldn't even muster up the energy to glare at her. If he was honest with himself, he knew that she probably understood his feelings better than anyone else at this moment. She loved Potter too, didn't she?

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

At the sound of his name, Draco was snapped back to reality and he took in the shocked look on the snake face before he turned to see the same surprise written on his own parent's' faces. Draco frowned. What had Potter just said about him?

". . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . ."

WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID POTTER SAY ABOUT HIM?! Draco felt panic grip him tightly as he listened intently for any indication that Potter had just declared his undying love for the blonde or something as equally unbelievable.

"You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

As Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, Draco rapidly looked between the wand and Potter's face with a mixture of emotions. He was feeling strangely giddy, having been called by his first name by the raven-haired boy himself, but also, he felt oddly as he looked at his wand held firm in Potter's grasp.

Quite suddenly, the sun crept just over the sill of the lowest window and blazing red-gold light hit the faces of everyone at once.

Draco raised a hand up to cover his eyes just as the shouts sounded.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Draco felt like time had frozen as he dropped his arm; eyes shut tight and opened his mouth in horror. _Potter! _**THE IDOIT!** A DISARMING CHARM WOULDN'T STOP A KILLING CURSE!

He'd lost him. He'd lost Harry for the second time in one day and he felt as if his heart had just given out as he fell to his knees and sadness overtook him in rapid waves like an ocean turning a storm.

The silence was harsh on his ears. Any moment now, the Dark Lord would roar with triumph and-

But the noise that sounded was of great rejoicing instead of great terror. Slowly, Draco opened his grey eyes as he felt his father's hands helping to his feet.

Potter was covered in people trying to touch him in some way or another, but he was unquestionably there and definitely alive. Draco felt his knees give out a second time by his father held him up without much effort.

* * *

As the Great Hall bustled and buzzed with movement and statements and such, Draco and his parents found themselves a place to rest, away from the flurry. Lucius had suggested they leave right away and sort things out back at the manner, but Narcissa had _insisted_ they stay at the school for a while longer and her tone had left for little argument for the Malfoy men.

While the three of them sat together in a huddle, Narcissa leaned down to her son, who was watching Harry Potter with obsessive attention. "Draco," She spoke softly, not wanting her husband to hear this particular type of news quite yet.

Draco dragged his silver flecked eyes away from the raven-haired man with difficulty. "Yes, mother?"

"Is there something on your mind, my son? You have been abnormally quiet."

There was indeed something on his mind, Draco thought, as he let his eyes travel back to the boy, just in time to see him slip under his cloak in the distraction handed to him by Loony. Draco smiled. He'd been glaring down those who had dragged the poor boy off to see, or to do, or to talk to someone or other. It had been frustrating! Couldn't they see that their 'Savior' looked like he'd just been to hell and back? Which, (Draco reminded himself morosely), he basically had. Potter looked tired, and like he was in real need of nice bath and a warm meal and Draco wanted nothing more than to drag Harry away from those attention seeking vultures and down to the prefects' bathroom or the Slytherin dorms.

But, he couldn't very well tell his _mother _that. Could he? "Er, yeah," Draco said, stalling for time and trying to ignore the stern look his mother sent him. "I mean, yes, mother, there is something on my mind. Vincent, he cast a spell that he couldn't control and it-he didn't-he didn't make it." Draco blinked against the waterworks and cursed himself for crying so much today. His mother patted his back soothingly.

"Oh, my son." She gave him a light hug. "Death of a friend is never easy."

Draco was thankful for the comfort it provided as he wrapped his own arms around his mother and breathed in her scent.

Pulling away, Narcissa fixed her pale eyes on her son. "Is that all that is plaguing you, Darling?"

She's doing it again, the pale blonde boy thought to himself as he avoided his mothers' steady blue gaze. She is doing that thing only mothers can do when they know that you're hiding something from them. Casting around for something else to say, Draco's eyes landed on the retreating backs of two of the golden trio. The third one must be with them, Draco decided as he felt his heart sink. Who else would Saint Potter want to be with after finally defeating the greatest dark wizard of his time? Who else but those two friends of his that never once put him in harms way, unlike Draco.

Draco sighed. It was a small relief that at least Potter hadn't also asked his girlfriend to join them. A very small relief indeed, but the thin wizard would take whatever he could get at this point…stupid Potter.

"You genuinely love him, don't you?"

Draco hadn't asked his mother who she was talking about. He hadn't needed to. He didn't have a response for her yet, so he merely offered a stiff, hesitant nod.

"Not everything is as out of reach as you may think, Draco." Narcissa said thoughtfully as she watched her son gaze longingly at one spot for far too long.

Draco grimaced, but did not pull away when he felt the tender strokes across his back, giving him a feeling of security. After a long moment of silent, gentle hands rubbing up and down his spine in reassurance, Draco mumbled, "I…I think I shall go find some water, excuse me." Before he stood and made his way across the rubble in hopes of finding some kind of distraction.

"Narcissa, dear, how much longer must we endure this?" Lucius asked coolly, giving the large room a sweeping gaze that stated as clear as day how much he disliked the commotion.

Narcissa smiled at her husband and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Soon, my love. Right now, I think your son needs a few more moments to gather his thoughts before we face that . . . _house_."

Lucius made a face at the way his wife said house. But he did not comment. Their house had been a dwelling for so much _unfriendly_ company this last year and Lucius understood her contempt with the place they had once called 'home'.

He nodded.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy? We'd like to ask you a few questions…"

Narcissa and Lucius both turned around to see two Aurors standing behind them and looking uncomfortable. Narcissa had expected them to get called in sooner or later and was just making to stand when bulkier of the two men cleared his throat. "Er- no, Mrs. Malfoy, you can stay, we just want to speak with your husband a moment. This won't take long."

Exchanging significant looks with her husband, Narcissa returned to her seat and observed her husband and the two Aurors for a moment before Lucius turned and gave her the smallest of smiles.

He was safe for now, then, she decided, and turned her attention on to the matter of her son.

Narcissa had to admit that it broke her heart to see her son look so dispirited. She had been surprised when she had seen her son exit the castle and take no notice of her, even as she waved him over to join her.

Draco had the blank mask in place, even when some of the others had started to shout. But still, he took no notice of anything other than the boy in the half giants' hands. Just as Narcissa was about to ask Lucius to help her catch their son's attention, Draco had shouted out something that went unheard in the chaos of noise. It seemed that no else had noticed and Narcissa made sure to watch her son closely. She, of course, knew the Potter boy was still alive, but her son did not, and when the first tear fell, Narcissa had let out a soft gasp. She watched in confused curiosity as her son's mask broke and he started to look ill. It was then that she made the connection.

Narcissa has known of her son's interest in males since the summer she caught him destroying objects in his room after being told of his arranged marriage into the Greengrass family on his twenty-first birthday. She had sat him down and they had discussed everything and in the end, he had worried over how Lucius would take the news, and Narcissa had told him not to stress, and they would tell him when the time came.

Belatedly, Narcissa realized it might be time to tell her husband the truth. Although, if he had seen what she had today, perhaps he already knew…though Narcissa suspected this was not the case as she was sure if Lucius had seen his son with eyes for no one but Mr. Potter, Lucius might have cast a second killing curse on the poor boy, just to make sure Harry Potter was not to ever have the chance of being his son-in-law.

The thought of Lucius and Mr. Potter exchanging pleasantries at Christmas dinner made Narcissa smile.

Unfortunately, Narcissa had not know the full weight of her son's feelings, or she might have taken him out of the Great Hall and somewhere private to have the talk she knew she would have to have with him sooner rather than later.

As she had watched her son retreat, back into the school, looking ill and not so much as glancing at her or his father, had let Narcissa know that her suspicions were true. Draco had been infatuated with the boy.

Astonishingly enough, (or, perhaps, not so astonishingly at all), Narcissa had not been shocked by this revelation. Since the moment Draco had met Mr. Potter, it was all he ever talked about. Every holiday and the majority of the letters he sent home contained some story or other that involved the Boy-Who-Lived. Though most of them were built on anger and jealousy, Narcissa did not have a hard time finding reluctant affection in those words, either.

Thinking that Draco only had a small crush, or possibly, Draco and Mr. Potter had secretly been dating and were keeping up the rival act for fear of anyone finding out; Narcissa hadn't worried herself too much as she knew the boy was alive and she could tell her son that the moment she could get him close enough. However, once the fighting had broken out, Narcissa shouted out his name through the mayhem and finally, just before Potter took up his final stance with the Dark Lord, Lucius had found their son and rushed over to his side, Narcissa hot on his trail. She had been so grateful to find him alive and well, that she hadn't noted his emotional state until well after the spells had been casted.

When Draco shut his eyes and fell to his knees, utterly incapable of allowing himself the chance to see the loss of Mr. Potter had exposed just how deeply he felt for this boy.

Her son was downright in love with Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world.

Lucius had looked outright alarmed when his son had fallen to his knees in what could only be agony, and he gave his wife a pleading look when Draco seemed to loose all strength the instant he saw that Mr. Potter had, indeed, survived once more.

Narcissa had told her husband she would explain later, and had insisted they stay put a while as she took the time to find out just how unreachable Harry Potter would be for her son.

As it turns out, Harry Potter was not as unapproachable as Narcissa had feared. The boy in question was rather similar to a Terri Hopskins she once knew. But the thing that stuck out to her the most was the way the boy seemed far too comfortable with the touch of a man, and simply much too shy with the touch of a woman.

However, the one piece of information that Narcissa had chose to cling too like a life line, was the possible verity of information that, in all of Draco's detailed stories about Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter seemed just as fixated on her son, as her son was on Mr. Potter.

Smiling to herself, Narcissa rose from her seat just as her husband was returning. She inclined her head in a silent question, but her husband shook his own head in answer. "Nothing I wish to discuss here." He informed her resignedly.

Narcissa nodded. Her blues eyes still fixed on her husband with sharp clarity. "Lucius, my love," She ventured slowly as Lucius's pale brows immediately drew down into a frown. He knew that tone. She knew he did.

"Yes, Narcissa, dear?" He inquired with great care.

Narcissa's smile held just enough mischievous traits that she knew would have her husband giving her his undivided attention. "Lucius, my darling . . . how would you feel about invited Mr. Potter over for tea?"

Lucius Malfoy choked on air and coughed in a rather undignified sort of way as he gave his wife a very calculating look. "Narcissa, what are you up too?" He demanded in a rougher voice than he had meant too after his dry coughing spell.

"Oh, I do believe Draco would just love to have Mr. Potter over for a visit, don't you think? I feel as if they would become fast friends, and let's face it, darling; our son is entirely too fascinated with the male anatomy. It would do him some good to get out and start dating handsome, eligible young wizards. If Harry Potter isn't good enough for our perfect young man, than I don't suppose we can stay Britain much longer. Perhaps we should move to Paris and see Draco settled with some young French designer. Oh, Lucius, imagine the clothes!"

Lucius Malfoy's opened his mouth. Whether in shock, outrage, or protest, Narcissa could not say. She was, however, exceedingly grateful Draco chose that moment to return from his search for water, and Lucius abruptly snapped his mouth shut and gave his wife a glare that promised a conversation would follow as soon as Draco was out of earshot so that they did not give his son any ideas. Narcissa knew that Lucius was not imagining the clothes, or French designers, or moving out of Britain. But the way his eyes suddenly scanned the area for a certain Savior made Narcissa hide a smile behind her hand. Lucius might not be happy with the idea, but if forced, he could certainly be persuaded to exchange pleasantries at Christmas dinner.

As they left the half destroyed Hogwarts School, Narcissa felt her heart was lighter than it had been in years. She couldn't guarantee her assessment of Mr. Potter's personal preference was accurate, but if what Draco had told her about Harry Potter's pastime of tailing him was correct, then she knew she would have nothing to worry about.

It may take some time, and she was sure that there would be complications along the way, but if it meant her son's happiness, then Narcissa Malfoy could endure anything life chose to throw at her.

* * *

Draco Malfoy wasn't sure what he would do or how he would do it, but after his walk around the school, Draco finally decided that he wanted Potter. And a Malfoy gets what a Malfoy wants.

Draco smirked. Love potion wasn't too hard a thing to brew if you had the right ingredients. Of course, love potions were only temporary. Draco was going to need something a little more…permanent.

The blonde could also just try to make friends with the green eyed boy first and find out what he likes before Draco tries anything too flirtatious.

He'd find a way to Potter's heart. After all, he was a Malfoy.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy's insides were thrown into turmoil. What had he ever done to deserve Harry Potter visiting for afternoon tea?! What ever it was, Lucius grudgingly forced himself to come to terms with the idea. It was only one tea invite. The boy could say no. Or Draco could get upset and start throwing hexes and then the foolish boy would never wish to enter his house again.

It couldn't possibly get any worse.

It wasn't like Draco planned to marry the boy or anything.

.

How very wrong he was.

* * *

Author Notes: I have no excuse for this. I really don't.

I don't know why but I was looking at my book shelf about four-ish hours ago (yeah, I wrote this in about three hours, sorry about any mistakes you find), and I saw the 7th Harry Potter book and I suddenly had the idea of writing Draco's POV of the battle and somehow, about halfway through I started getting really motherly with Narcissa and it just snowballed from there.

As we all know, I love taking cliche things like a potion's class induced body swap or Ron Weasley playing matchmaker, and then see just how much I can twist them without going too far off the original cliche. So, with all the millions of 'Draco's POV during the battle' fics out there, this seemed just about right for my style. I know I rush it a little, but the idea just popped into my head and anytime I stopped writing for any reason, (dog needed to go outside, I got thirsty, doorbell rang), then another thought would just come to me and I'd rush back to the computer to write it out. I swear, it was like watching a movie in my head, it had no pause button and before I knew it, three hours had gone by and I was done...I have to say, I didn't not want to actually end it there but I just couldn't think of anything else to add. *shrugs* Weird.

Anyways, I simply have no excuse and I hope it's not as horrible as it seems. I've only really re-read it about three-four-ish times and mostly that's just because I'm late for an appointment with some friends for lunch so this is being posted in a rush before I leave because I just know I'll forget to do it for a week if I don't do it now. Anyways, hope you liked it. It was my first ever attempt at Angst sooooo...give me your feedback. Reviews are welcome! Thanks guys!

^^ -KIAD.


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